


Pair of star-cross'd lovers

by fallenflowercrowns (meggiewrites)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Dancer Harry, Dancer Louis, Flower Child Harry, Harry is Juliet, Louis is Romeo, M/M, Oblivious Louis, Pining Harry, Punk Louis, Punk!Louis, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:38:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/fallenflowercrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is the world's most unconventional ballet dancer who hides his tattooed arms under long-sleeved shirts, Liam is his pain-in-the-arse best friend, Ben Winston is an omniscient choreographer and Harry Styles has to be the most cheerful person ever.</p><p>Or, Louis is in denial of his sexuality, Harry falls head over heels in love with him and they both dance in a gay production of Romeo and Juliet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fact-checking is via wikipedia, my English is secondary, my [beta](http://http://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou) (thank you darling I love you so much) isn't British and I haven't done ballet in quite a while, so sorry for any mistakes! 
> 
> This fic is something that has been stuck in my head for quite some time, and I finally found the time to start writing, so I hope you enjoy reading :)
> 
> To Jordan, because you keep me motivated, and for being generally awesome.

Louis is fifteen minutes late for rehearsals the day the company holds open auditions for the role of Juliet.

If anyone asks, he will blame it on his broken alarm clock and deny furiously that his phone could have done the same job without a problem. If they were able to read minds, they would realize that he drank several beers too many the day before and therefore has quite the hangover.

So Louis is late, longish brown hair undone, with a beanie pulled over it. Because he was too lazy to pick an actual outfit, he just threw on a pair of soft, grey trackies and an adidas top with no cleavage and long sleeves. Not exactly dressed to impress, but whatever.

As he stumbles into the theater and storms backstage, he almost runs into his flatmate. Liam is a stagehand for the company Louis dances for, but the two of them have been friends ever since secondary school. Actually, Louis was the one that got Liam the job when the younger man lost the position he held as a secretary at a minor law firm.

Liam looks at Louis with his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re late again, Louis? Seriously?”

Louis angrily glares at him. “Shut it, Liam. If you were so concerned about me being on time, you could’ve at least woken me up.”

“You should take responsibility for your drinking habits, don’t you think?” Liam retorts with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh that’s harsh coming from you, Payno - who’s the one that goes out almost every weekend while I stay at home and exercise?”

Liam just scoffs. Louis throws him one last annoyed glance, then heads over to the male dancers’ changing room. He’s late, after all. He doesn’t have time to chat all morning.

When Louis bolts inside, Niall and Zayn are already there; they’ve changed and are flexing their feet, chatting mindlessly. The blonde Irishman notices Louis and promptly engulfs him in a tight hug with a loud, “Lou!”

Louis chuckles. “Hey Nialler. Is there any reason for this sudden enthusiasm?”

“Of course there is?” Niall looks at Louis like he's grown a second head.

“Well then, what it is?” Louis has never been known for patience, so he doesn't really like the way Niall is withholding information from him. “Did I get Mercutio?”

“No, _I_ got Mercutio.” Niall seems really excited about the fact, which honestly, Louis doesn't really get. That's the role Louis'd spent almost a month preparing for, so for one of his best friends to be so excited about snatching away a role literally _made_ for Louis isn't that nice.

“Oh, did you?” Louis voice is sharp and cold like broken glass, causing Niall to stop grinning and Zayn to shoot the two of them a concerned glance.

“Louis, Lou, Tommo my man, don't you know?” The smirk slowly creeps back on Niall's face.

“For god's sake Niall, what?!”

“You got Romeo, Tommo- Romeo!”

Louis blinks. “Is this a joke?”

“No,” Zayn says as he joins the two and throws an arm around Niall's shoulders, his dark olive skin contrasting the blond’s pale complexion. “You’re going to be Romeo, Lou.”

“But why?” Louis asks, honestly bewildered. "I mean, wasn't John supposed to get Romeo by default because Taylor refused to dance lead with anyone else?”

Zayn tilts his head. "She sprained her ankle two days ago at practice. Won't be able to dance for a while. Didn't Liam tell you?"

Louis shakes his head. Zayn huffs.

"Well, you know now! Isn't it great?" At this point Niall is almost literally jumping up and down, but Louis isn't really ready to share his excitement. He never deliberately auditions for the lead roles, even though he has 'more potential than most of the other dancers here' - at least according to Ben Winston, choreographer of the company. But Louis is hesitant about it. He’s a crucial part of of the most prestigious dance company in Europe, but he'd never been entirely comfortable with dancing intimately with someone. It just felt wrong to him, being so close to a person that you weren't emotionally connected to, someone that probably was in a romantic relationship with someone else.

On top of that, there’s the issue of his body art. In private, he usually likes showing it off - but in connection to dancing, he’d always been insecure about it. After all, what will the public think about a Romeo with gauges in his ears and ink all over his skin?

\--

Niall and Zayn leave the changing room soon after, the latter insisting that they were already tardy enough and that Ben should release his temper on Louis instead. _Some friends they are._

Louis changes from his baggy sweatshirt into a tight one, this one black and effectively covering up his arms and torso. Most of the other dancers don't know about Louis' tattoos. He can only imagine their sneers and frowns - ballet dancers are usually quite conceited, and when you don’t fit into their perfect world they are quick to push you out. He knows from personal experience that they can be a lot worse than a school of judgeful teens. Ben and the head of the company do, of course, know about his secret second life as a punk, as well as Niall and Zayn and his favorite stylist. But he always changes in the cubicles, and always wears long-sleeved shirts with almost no cleavage for rehearsals as well as performances. He figures it’s his own Hannah Montana thing.

While Louis would prefer to ponder his thoughts for a while, he is still in a hurry. He wants to grab on his training leggings, but they aren't there. He opens his bag again, going through it unsuccessfully. “Dammit.” Of course, just what he needed now. If he went to training in trackies Ben'd have his head on a platter, but if he didn't want to go on there half naked-no thank you- he didn't have any other choice.

Sighing, the 22-year old made his way out the door and up the stairs to the big ballroom above the theater that served the company as a training room.

Already climbing the staircase Louis was able to hear Ben Winston's loud voice. "Chassé, and Plié, Pas de Chât, Pas de Chât!"

Having arrived at the top of the stair, Louis hesitates for a bit before pushing the door handle down and entering. Everyone's heads are turning to look at him. He hears a few snickers coming from the left side. John (the previous Romeo) and his friends snicker upon seeing Louis in trackies. Ben walks over to Louis with a sigh.

“Mr. Tomlinson. Once again you’re late. Let me tell you, this isn’t a promising beginning to you being a lead dancer. This is the fifth time in two weeks.”

“Yes, sir.” Louis really doesn't enjoy being obedient, but he realized pretty early in his career - after a talk with Simon Cowell, the company owner, himself - that talking back to your bosses could easily cost you a job. Usually, being this unreliable could too. He just assumes - prays, really - that they've gotten used to the chaos that is Louis Tomlinson, or at least overlooked all of that in exchange for him being an excellent dancer.

The choreographer shakes his head to himself. “Take your position, Louis. But come to see me once we've finished. I want to talk to you.”

Louis gulps. That usually means extra work - additional practicing hours, helping the newbies with their steps, stuff like that. _Brilliant Tomlinson, well done. You’ve managed to screw yourself over once again._

\--

Ben treats Louis a lot harsher than he usually does, which probably has something to do with his newly prominent position in the ensemble as well as the fact that Ben probably holds a grudge over him at the moment. By the time practise is finished and Zayn pats his shoulders on his way out of the room with Niall, Louis and Ben are the last ones there. The punk’s feet are sore from the rough handling they've received, causing him to wince slightly when he walks over to the desk that is perched in the corner of the room.

Ben goes over to close the door, then starts to talk as he packs up his stuff. “Louis. I've told you before, you're a brilliant dancer - probably the best one to come out of this company in years. But in order for you to face this challenge, we need to talk about your flaws.”

Louis wants to open his mouth, but before he can utter a word Ben raises a finger, "Don't you dare to say you don't have them, Lou. We both know you do", and Louis realizes as soon as the nickname slips his lips, this isn't a choreographer-to-dancer talk. This is a mentor-to-protegé talk.

“Firstly, there’s your lack of self-confidence. I know as well as you do that your wit, humor and sarcasm are means of defense, ways to put up walls around yourself.”

Louis looks at him pointedly. Ben is right, of course. He tutored Louis in maths back when they were in school, and was the first and - besides Zayn - the only person he ever opened up about his insecurities.

“Also”, Ben continues, “you need to work on showing more respect for authority. Showing up late, disregarding dress code... those are things you do did in school, Lou, and even there you couldn’t get away with it unpunished. Do you know what it looks like to the others when I let you get away with stuff like that too often?”

Louis stubbornly stares at the floor and plays with the hem of his shirt. “I know. I'm trying, okay?” he snaps defensively and lifts his head up to stare at Ben.

“Try harder.” Louis lets his ice blue eyes focus on the wall behind Ben’s head.

Ben sighs once more, then continues. "We're holding auditions for Juliet. I've seen you dance with all of the female soloists and you haven't had chemistry with one of them. Also, the Academy has been asking for a while if we don't have any positions to fill. They're sending over a bunch of people in half an hour. You and I", Ben turns to face Louis, "will go down there and look at every single one of them. Then I'll choose ten people, all of whom you will dance with tomorrow. I’ll choose your partner based on that performance. Is that clear?"

Tomorrow is Sunday. It _would_ have been the last day off before the start of the production, and therefore weeks and weeks of training. “Yeah”, Louis mutters. As if he has any other choice. He at least hopes that his Juliet will be someone he gets along with.

Coming into the theater, there are already dozens of girls preparing their feet, fixing their makeup or costumes. Louis can feel their eyes following him as he makes his way through the sea of warm bodies. Of course. They always stare. Louis Tomlinson, golden boy of the Royal Ballet Academy despite not taking up dancing until the age of thirteen. Every dancer in this goddamn city knows his name, believe they know his story. But they don’t know the person behind the name and his pretty face. They don’t know the _real_ Louis Tomlinson. _Not many people do_ , he thinks, teeth gritted together.

He’s keeping his head down to avoid eye contact and not really looking where he’s going, so he doesn’t see the person stumbling in his way early enough to get out of his way. The boy slams into him with full force, causing Louis to fall to the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The voice is smooth and deep, and belongs to a pair of long, thin legs clad in dark blue leggings. But then Louis looks up and there is a boy. He has a big, dopey smile on his face, despite just having knocked someone over, and a bird’s nest of silky brown curls on his head. His emerald green eyes sparkle. They literally _sparkle_. By now, Louis is starting to question how hard exactly he hit his head. The boy - man? manboy? - isn’t wearing a shirt, and has his right hand extended for Louis to take.

“If you expect me to introduce meself, you shouldn’t have knocked me over first, mate.” Louis drawls in his thick Yorkshire accent.

The boy looks confused for a second, and furrows his eyebrows. “Uh, no. I wanted to help you up. ‘S what you do when you make someone fall.”

Louis just snickers and takes the boy’s hand, who then hauls him up. “Nah lad, don’t worry, you’re fine, I’m just messin’ with ya.”

The boy tilts his head. “You’re Louis Tomlinson.”

“I am. Thanks for helping me up. After you’ve pushed me down.”

Louis turns to leave, but the boy grabs his wrist, completely engulfing it in his big hand. “‘M Harry. Harry Styles.”

Louis turns around to smirk at the clumsy boy. “Well Harry Styles, I guess I’ll see you around.”, he says and winks at him. The boy blushes. Just a tiny bit.

\--

The first three auditions are completely awful, the girls too young and not graceful enough, almost stumbling over their feet due to nervousness. The fourth and the fifth ones are average, but not good enough for the role they are auditioning for. The next girl is already a woman. She introduces herself as Eleanor Calder, and explains that she is going to graduate from the Academy this year, hoping to become a member of the company. She’s a decent dancer, too, and she seems like a nice enough girl. Louis likes her, thinking that he wouldn’t mind dancing with her.

After the brunette leaves the room, Ben faces Louis with a relieved smile. “And here I was fearing there wouldn’t be any suitable Juliets today. I’m glad I was proven wrong.”

Louis grins back. “Yeah, she was fit. And good too.”

“Um. Hi.”

Standing in the middle of the room is the curly-haired bloke from before, toes pushed together, awkwardly shuffling around. Harry looks nervous, he’s fiddling with the hem of his top.

“Mate, I’m sorry, but I think there’s been a miscommunication. We’re only looking for a Juliet,” Ben clarifies.

“No! I mean - yes. I’m here to audition for Juliet.”

Louis had just been raising his water bottle to his lips, and now he chokes on the gulp he’s already taken.

“Come again?” he croaks out in between violent coughs.

“My name is Harry and I am here to audition for Juliet.” He seems to have gained some confidence. His words came out a lot stronger than before.

Ben looks him up and down, then rubs his face into his palms out of frustration. “Ok, Harry. Off you go.”

He is good, Louis has to give him that. He is actually fairly impressed. For a 19-year old kid, this guy is an extraordinary dancer. The only thing that he doesn’t get is why this boy is wasting his talent to audition for a part he has no chance to land. And that’s exactly what he tells Harry when the younger man looks at Louis expectantly to judge his performance.

“Not to be rude, Harry, but I’m pretty sure Juliet was a girl.”

Louis almost wants to take that back after he sees the kid’s face fall. He feels like he just kicked a puppy, but he was just telling the truth.

Ben then tells Harry how he is really talented - “Almost as amazing as Louis, here!” - but then also continues to tell him that he is not what they’re looking for today.

Harry by now looks like he’s almost crying, eyes wide and a bit teary, even though in Louis’ opinion they’re letting him down gently. I mean, what did Curly expect? That they’d hire him for a female part just because he’s a brilliant dancer?

“I’m sorry, Harry. Maybe you could come back when we’re looking for a male part next season.” Ben smiles at the boy encouragingly, but Harry still looks lost and too small as he leaves the room.

Louis doesn’t really pay attention to the remaining auditions. He doesn’t remember any of the girls’ names, and by the time the last dancer walks out of the door, he tells Ben that he wants Eleanor in the final ten, then leaves without saying goodbye.

\--

The next morning Louis _does_ get a wake up call from Liam. Or better, Liam just bursts into his room telling him that Ben called and that Louis needed to be at the theater in 30 minutes. The older man curses, inhales a bowl full of cereal in record time, and grabs his skateboard. Ben doesn’t like seeing him skate because he risks major injuries, but whatever. If he has to wait for a taxi or the tube he’d be late for sure.

By the time he arrives at the theater, skateboard tucked under his arm, most of the girls are already there. Louis is actually delighted to spot Eleanor’s brown ponytail, and even throws her a  
small smile. She returns it happily.

Ben has already set up a small table on the stage, the callbacks being held there instead of the ballroom. He looks relieved when he looks up from the table.

“Louis! I’m glad you could be here on time - now, I want you to wear this.” He hands Louis a skintight black onesie, long-sleeved and generally covering - just how Louis prefers it.

“Your partners will be wearing the same in white. I need you to give your best today, Louis. I know partner dance is something you always struggled with, but this could be the start of your solo career. It’s crucial that you have the best partner possible.”

Louis just nods and takes the shiny piece of fabric out of Ben’s hands.

After he changed he once again joins Ben at the small table. The big lights are switched off, only a small lamp for Ben, and the big spotlight pointed at the center of the stage. Ben takes a look at his papers and then calls: “Martha! Could Martha please come out here please?”

The first girl that faces them seems fairly shy. Louis doesn’t remember her. She performs a short piece, only about ten steps, then Ben asks Louis to join her. They both follow Ben’s instructions, but Louis already starts feeling uncomfortable when he is told to put his hands on her small hips. It feels all wrong, lifting her up and holding her close. He wonders if this is why he never had a relationship over the past few years, if he’s just too awkward to be this close to another person. He quickly looks over to Ben in a moment when he he thinks the choreographer isn’t watching him, but of course is immediately met with Ben’s stare. The older man sighs, and mentions for them to stop.

“Thank you, Martha. You may go. I will tell you about your results soon.”

She nods and thanks both of them quietly, shooting a timid smile in Louis direction. He doesn’t return it.

By the time seven girls have auditioned, Louis is getting really fucking frustrated. He hasn’t been able to physically connect with any of them, almost dropped one unlucky brunette while lifting her. Judging by the way Ben is rubbing his temples and tapping his pen against the stack of papers, Louis can tell he is getting anxious too. After dancer number seven, a leggy blonde, leaves the stage, Ben mentions him to come closer.

“This isn’t working. It isn’t working at all. These girls are all lovely dancers, but you don’t let them get into a conversation with you - you _need_ to get over that internal conflict you have. I know this isn’t something you can just change about yourself from one minute to the next, but you need to start somewhere, Louis! It seems like you aren’t even trying, just like you’re pushing them away in your mind already before you even started dancing!”

“But I am!” They are both getting loud now. Every other dancer wouldn’t have dared to talk back to Benjamin Winston, choreographer extraordinaire, but Louis isn’t everyone. He is as stubborn as he is driven and hot-headed, and his own inability to connect with the females is driving him up the wall.

Ben slumps back in his seat. “Eleanor is next. You liked her yesterday, didn’t you? Try to show that, for once.”

Louis presses his lips together tightly, and nods shortly. He will make this work. He must make this work.

Eleanor looks lovely in white. Her long brown hair is bundled up in a messy bun, and she smiles at both men. Louis feels almost a bit relieved seeing her. She’s a nice girl. Looks-wise, she’s nothing like his last girlfriend Hannah, a tiny blonde with a loud laugh, but yeah. He thinks he could like her.

The two take their positions.

And Louis tries. He spins her, pulls her close. He tries, tries and tries again to make their bodies align in the best way possible, tries to make his movements more fluent and less forced, tries to keep a smile on his face. Just as he feels like he’s getting into it, Ben’s words cut through his mind.

“Stop. Thank, you Eleanor, you can leave.”

She bows, then presses a chick peck against Louis’ cheek, leaving him baffled, then turns around.

Louis faces Ben. “Louis. It looked like you were trying, this time. But I’m really sad to tell you; it didn’t come over as natural. You looked forced, and no matter how much you two tried; you can’t build up chemisty if it isn’t there. However, she was a lot better than the rest of them. With a lot of practise and trust you two could maybe make this work. But, firstly, we have two other options. Maybe we can create a miracle.”

The crooked smile he’s showing Louis makes the younger man realize that there isn’t really hope for a more suitable partner. Ben is just trying not to give up just yet. The choreographer walks over to look into the backstage area.

“Well, could Jasmine please join us? Jasmine?” After a short pause he calls the girls name again, but again, no one answers. Louis can see from his position on the stage how the older man’s shoulders sag, as he says “Well then come on, number ten, seems like we aren’t waiting for her, so you’re up now.”

Louis draws circles on the stage with his foot, not looking up as Ben reemerges, another pair of footsteps following him. Nevertheless his head immediately snaps up when he hears the cheerful, “Hi!” next to his side.

Standing there is the lanky curly boy from yesterday. As always, a big smile is plastered on Harry’s face, his body covered with the white overall, his long hair held back by a black headband.

“Are you kidding me?”

Louis didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but he can’t control the tiny bit of anger in his tone. What exactly was Ben thinking when putting Harry in the final ten?

But the man only shrugs. “Mr. Styles here was more impressive yesterday than any of the girls you’ve danced with. I figured it would be unfair not giving him a chance.”

Louis is openly gaping by now, hands balled into fists. He opens his mouth, ready to start ranting, when a big hand slips on his shoulders.

“Hey, relax.”

The voice by his ear makes Louis jump, but he relaxes a bit when Harry starts rubbing his tense shoulder.

“Alright, boys. Louis, put your hands on Harry’s hips. The same routine as before. Harry, as practised.”

It is difficult at first. Louis’ mind is still struggling with the fact that he’s dancing intimately with a guy, and his arms need to adjust to the bigger weight that is put on them. Harry is taller than Louis himself and has a good foot on the tallest girl out of the bunch. So even though the boy is really skinny, he is a lot heavier than anyone Louis has danced with before. Louis is reeling, fearing to let him fall as he pushes the boy up, his muscles tense, but miraculously, it works.

They almost meld together, Harry’s big hands giving Louis a reassurance he’d never felt when dancing with a girl. At the same time Harry is leaving him the complete lead, following all his movements fluently and obediently. Louis makes a wrong step, stumbles, but Harry is there to catch him, making it seem like a choreographed move instead of a slip-up; and suddenly they lock eyes.

Blue meets green. Louis doesn’t want to sound cheesy, but something in him just clicks. A warm feeling starts spreading from his belly, a small smile tugging at Harry’s mouth while they just stare at each other. They don’t even really notice that they stopped moving.

Ben clears his throat. “Well, lads. I think we found the second lead. Well done, Harry. Louis. I’ll see you both on Monday. Try not to be late.” He pointedly looks at Louis.

“What, but - what?” Louis, who had finally managed to break away from staring at Harry, can’t believe what he just heard. Ben is making Harry Juliet? Does that even work? Can he do that? He looks at Harry, but the younger boy just turns around, gives him a wink and a cheeky grin, and says:

“See you on monday, Lou!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://headband-husbands.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

Louis’ breakfast usually consists of a cup of hot Yorkshire tea and a bowl of cereal, just because of the simple fact that neither he nor Liam are actually able to cook.

This morning he is alone sitting at their tiny kitchen table, prodding his choco pops, which is unusual. Liam is a morning person, always fresh and active the moment he gets out of bed. Louis, on the other hand, is the guy who always sleeps in as long as possible. Liam would claim he’s world-renowned for his laziness, but who cares what he says?

The dancer is munching on a spoonful of his cereal, deep in thought about The Harry Situation (as he decided to call it), when Liam stumbles through the door, rubbing his temples, his usually quiffed-up hair flattened down his forehead as he presses out a: “Morning, Lou.”

 _Right,_ Louis recalls, _Liam was out last night._

“Hey, Li.”

Liam pours the still-hot water that Louis had left in the kettle into the mug that was already prepared for him on the counter. He curses when a few drops fall on his hand.

“So, are you excited for the start of rehearsals?” he asks, turning to face his flatmate. 

Louis snorts. “Not really. ‘M trying to figure out how I’m supposed to put up with the Styles kid, if I’m being honest.”

“Styles kid?” Liam raises his eyebrows.

“Curly brunette bloke, quite tall. Dunno if you’ve see him around. Ben made him Juliet.”

Liam’s eyebrows almost disappear behind his fringe. “Him?”

Louis shrugs. “Mhm. And I don’t know what to think about it. Making a guy Juliet, just turning a classical piece into a gay adaption – can Ben even do that? Like, what the actual fuck?!” He aggressively stabs his cereal. What is it about this kid that makes his temper flare up like that?

“I don’t know, Lou. I mean, it’s Winston’s and ultimately Cowell’s decision. You should treat it as a professional thing, it’s not that different to any time before." 

The older man lets his head fall on the desk. “I don’t know, Liam – just the prospect of dancing with him gets me aggravated!”

“Maybe you should think about _why_ you are so upset about this.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “What are you implying, Payne?”

Liam raises his hands in surrender. “Nothing, I swear. Just; this is a professional relationship, so you should treat it like one. You don’t need to befriend the kid or anything.”

Louis scoffs, then once again turns his attention to the soggy cereal in his baby blue bowl. Yuck.

But really, this is a problem. Dancing a part this intimate – including a _wedding night_ scene – with another male? Harry just stumbled into the theatre on his baby deer legs and completely took over Louis’ life and every single one of his thoughts. Louis thinks it’s something he has every right to be upset about. 

\--

Liam is tinkering around the kitchen, having rediscovered his usual enthusiasm and preparing a coffee to follow up the tea, while Louis pours the rest of his cereal into the bin. He can feel how Liam’s big brown eyes fixate on his side, probably inspecting the new tattoo etched into his skin that’s poking out from underneath the punk’s tank top. 

Louis grins, then pulls off his shirt in order to show his friend the dagger inked on his left side.

“Oh, this is wicked!” Liam exclaims while tracing over the still slightly raised skin.

“Yeah? At first I wasn’t so sure about getting it - both of my arms are filled already, thought it was a bit much to get my torso inked, too.”

“Well you already have those,” Liam points to his chest pieces, “and no, it looks sick, mate, I really like it. Good choice. When did you get it done? ‘Cause I’m sure that wasn’t there last week.” Liam grins at him, and Louis immediately starts to feel better.

“Last Tuesday before training. And thanks, I’m really pleased with how it turned out.”

Putting his shirt back on, he smiles to himself. Liam Payne; usually a major pain in the arse, but damn great at being a friend, that one.

\--

The two boys arrive at the theatre together, Liam needing to be there to help put up the scenery for the first time. Louis changes quickly, then joins the other dancers backstage.

He immediately spots Niall’s blond head bouncing around, and Zayn pats him on the shoulder as he passes him. The black-haired lad then sits down in a corner, notebook open, pencil in hand and earphones plugged in.

Louis chuckles. Yeah, Zayn’s always needed his alone time.

Niall, on the other hand bounds over to him as soon as he sees Louis hovering in the door. “Tommo! Did you already meet your fellow sufferer?”

“Yeah, I did.” Louis can’t help the slightly resentful tone.

“Well you don’t seem chipper about it. What’s up?” Niall tilts his head and looks at him with his ‘concerned face’ (the same one he gets when he didn’t have something to eat in a few hours).

Before Louis can answer, Ben appears beside him, equipped with a clipboard and a stern look on his features.

“Good morning dancers. Welcome to the first production of the season, an adaption on Shakespeare’s _Romeo and Juliet_ , with music composed by [Sergei Prokofiev](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_hOR50u7ek). I’m glad to see that our Romeo is on time today”, he smirks in Louis’ direction, “but where –“

Harry chooses that exact moment to burst into the room, panting, his dark blue coat hanging open and – was that a fedora on his head?

He takes a deep breath. “Sorry Mr. Winston, but I tripped over my cat this morning when I wanted to leave, and I had to make sure he was alright.” 

Louis can hear a few dancers chuckle at the boy’s quirkiness, and even Louis himself has to stifle a giggle. _God, is this kid for real?_  

Harry shows a crooked smile, then shuffles over to the changing room.

Ben clears his throat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the newest addition to our ensemble. Harry Styles, in the second to last year at the Academy. He will play Juliet. Or Julian, if you prefer.” 

A collective whisper is raised among the dancers, several hushed voices asking various questions. _A boy, Juliet? What! I don’t understand._ And there’s one in particular that Louis isn’t able to overhear. _Is Tommo gay? Ew_. It comes from where John and his gang are standing.

“Additionally”, Ben raises his voice, “we have Niall Horan as Mercutio, Zayn Malik as Tybalt and Nick Grimshaw as Paris. Now, please assemble in front of the blackboard.” 

Everyone does as told. Once they’re all seated, Harry re-emerges and plops down next to Louis.

“Hiya Lou!” He sounds as chipper as always - how the hell is it possible to be so cheerful at nine o’clock in the morning?

Louis also notices that, besides a white v-neck and that stupid headband, the kid is wearing pink leggings with floral print. _Really?_

Louis snorts. “Hey, Styles.” He swears he hears Niall snicker from where he’s sitting on the other side of the room with Zayn, but he chooses to kindly ignore it.

Ben then continues to go on and on about the choreography, the training schedule and the different scenes. Louis feels his eyes almost dropping shut, but before he is actually able to nod off there’s someone poking his thigh.

When he looks over, there is Harry staring at him with his big green bambi eyes. “What?” he hisses at the younger man.

“Does he always talk this much?”

“Ben? He really enjoys the sound of his own voice, that’s for sure.”

“Hm.” Harry tilts his head. “Reckon I can get away with napping for a bit?”

“Why, you tired?” Louis teases. He can’t help but be a bit charmed by the boy’s slow, gentle voice and the cat-like grin on his face.

“Didn’t really get much sleep last night, is all.”

“Why Harold, you’re this nervous to be in a production next to big, bad me?”

Harry giggles. “Nah, from what I’ve seen you’re neither big nor bad.”

Louis looks at him and gasps in mock offense while Harry presses out another giggle. Louis has to admit that it is rather adorable, the way his nose crunches up and he half closes his eyes.

Harry shakes his head, then continues to bury his nose in Louis’ shoulder. “’S not my name, you know? I’m just Harry.”

Louis finds himself staring at the younger boy curled up into his side like a kitten, and for a moment he wants to lift his hand and bury it in the chocolate brown curls. But then he snaps out of it, realizes that they’re basically cuddling – in public! – and jerks away. 

“What are you doing?”

Lifting his head up again, Harry looks taken aback, then slowly retreats the hand that is still resting on Louis thigh, and -when did that happen?

Louis straightens his back, and focuses on the blackboard, trying to stop himself from glancing over at his dancing partner one more time.

When Ben finally finishes and claps his hands to signal them to get up and get working, Louis stands up quickly and hurries away from Harry.

For now the ensemble is practicing the ball scene, and of the soloists only Zayn and Niall need to be present. Louis knows that he and Harry will have practice later in the afternoon, but for now he’s a free man. He grabs his skateboard, not bothering to change out of his training clothes, just throwing his dark red hoodie on over them.

Once he’s outside, Louis puts in his headphones and turns up the volume level on his iPod. He skates through the city, only stopping at the Topshop where he spotted a few nice band shirts the day before. He quickly decides to buy an Iron Maiden tank top, changes into it as soon as he’s outside again, and puts on his sunglasses.

That’s when he stops being Louis Tomlinson, star ballet dancer. Now he is himself, just Louis the punk deviant who gets dirty looks for the tattoos crawling up his arms. He takes a deep breath. It feels like it’s easier to breathe like this.

When he arrives at his destination, a small public park, the sun has already come out, warming his bare skin and throwing a golden shimmer on his hair.

Louis gives a happy sigh and lets himself fall back onto the soft grass of the lawn.

This is what peace feels like. Music in his ears, a nice place to rest, and the ability to forget himself.

He lets his thoughts wander, thinks about how he wants to order Chinese for him and Liam tonight, how he should call his Mum, catch up with his siblings. And then he thinks about Harry. Harry, with his blinding smile, bright green eyes and soft curls. He feels a smile tugging at his lips. Somehow he doesn’t seem to be able to stop being endeared by the curly-haired boy, finding it hard to despise him like he initially wanted to. After all, Harry isn’t to blame for the situation they’re in. And – as far as dance partners go, there are worse than Harry Styles.

He pulls out the book he’s reading at the moment – Shakespeare’s  _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ ; yes, he’s always been a sucker for old William – and lets the outside world fade around him in the span of a breath.

\--

It’s already late afternoon when Louis returns to the theatre, having gotten lost in Puck’s shenanigans and the confusion of the lovers. He’s probably late, again, but when he hurries on stage, neither Ben nor Harry are anywhere in sight.

He takes a relieved breath and pulls off his shirt. Nobody’s here anyway, so Louis can change here safely without being spotted. His training shirt for today is white, and for a second he’s concerned about the material being see-through, but then pushes away those thoughts, because – even though he’d like to postpone it as long as possible – Harry will get a sneak peak of his tattoos sometimes anyway. With the roles they play, it’s bound to happen.

Just as he finishes up fitting his toned legs into his tights, Ben hurries on stage. 

“Hey, Lou.” He takes a minute for his breathing to even out again. “Looks like you’re the first for once. I hope Harry won’t make a habit out of this - it’s bad enough that neither of us ever manages to be on time.”

Louis offers him a weak smile, shuffling his feet around the painted stage floor. 

It takes Harry another five minutes to show up. Ben glares at him when he does, which causes the boy to let his head drop and murmur a soft. “Sorry.”

At least the younger boy is already changed underneath his big coat, still wearing those atrocious flower power tights. Louis smirks. _Quirky_ would probably be the right adjective to describe Harry Styles, he thinks.

Ben looks up from his clipboard. “Harry, Louis. Hi. First of all, please do call me Ben, both of you, because we will be working together quite closely for the next couple of weeks. Now, here are your schedules.” He hands them a paper each.

Louis groans internally at the sight of it. Except for Sunday, all the days are packed with rehearsals, costume fittings, group practice and partner dance with Harry. 

“This is. Um. A lot?” Harry has a little frown on his face, and probably looks the most concentrated Louis’s ever seen him. It looks almost cute.

Ben smiles. “If you want to be a professional ballet dancer, this is what it takes to bring you to the top and stay there.”

Louis can’t help but rolling his eyes. Tempting Harry with the prospect of fame and reconnection - what a weak move. He looks down at his schedule again, noticing something weird.

Tuesday afternoon, 12 to 5 pm. 'Bonding time' _. What the hell? Is this kindergarten or what?_

“Ben?”

“Yes Louis?” 

Louis tips a finger on Tuesday afternoon. “What is that supposed to mean?” He takes a look at Harry’s timetable over the taller boy’s shoulder, and notices that the same thing is written there.

A grin tugs at Ben’s mouth, making it seem like the choreographer is trying really hard not to laugh.

“Ah. I thought you’d ask that. Well Louis, as it seems you still have problems connecting with other dancers, and Harry is new here. He doesn’t know the company, or its members, or the area around the theatre.”

He makes a wistful pause, now openly grinning at the two dancers in front of him, staring him down. Louis makes an impatient noise, then waving his hand, gesturing Ben to finally go on. 

“Basically, I want you two to spend time together.” 

“So this is just another partner practice?”

“Let me finish, Tomlinson. This scheduled time isn’t for dancing. Actually, I will kick your butts out of this theatre if I see you as much as repeating steps in here on Tuesdays. I want you to get to know each other. Talk, go for a walk, open up a bit.” He pointedly looks at Louis. “Try to become friends. I promise you, when you start to fully trust each other, the whole dancing together thing will come way easier to both of you.”

Louis opens his mouth, closes it again, looks over at Harry (who looks somewhat excited but at the same time almost as shocked as Louis), then back at Ben. 

But the man hasn’t finished yet. “And, if I’m going to find out in any way that you haven’t been doing that in the assigned time, there will be consequences.”

“Like what?” Harry doesn’t sound angry, just curious. Louis has to physically stop himself from shaking his head at the boy.

“I don’t know yet. But I’m sure Mr. Cowell will have some ideas.”

Louis gulps. Nothing is a game anymore as soon as Simon Cowell is brought into the conversation. Looks like he’s really playing nanny for an oversized man-child with stupid curly hair once every week. Fabulous. 

“Well!” Ben claps his hands. “Now that we have that all cleared that up, gentlemen, let’s dance!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://headband-husbands.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

It’s already dark outside when practice is over, and Louis is still feeling the hushed shadows of Harry’s big hands all over his body. They work well together, the two of them. Almost too well for two people who were mere strangers a few days before.

He is changing almost in slow motion, feeling every sore bone is his body. Just when he’s trying to stuff his right arm into his shirt, Harry appears in the doorway.

“Hey Louis do you wanna …” His voice trails off, mouth hanging open, staring at the part of Louis’ arm still sticking out, covered in black and red ink. 

Louis hastily finishes up, once again covering himself, hiding his real self under armour made out of cotton and polyester. He self-consciously rubs over the arm Harry is still staring at, even though Louis’ now fully clothed again.

“Yeah, Styles? Wha’ do you want?”

“I. Um. I. Do you wanna grab a bite on the way home? With. Me?” He is stuttering, looking really confused by the whole situation, like his brain is still processing what he’s just seen and trying to connect it to Louis’ pissy attitude.

Louis sighs and pinches the back of his nose. Harry is somewhat of an annoyance, but at the same time that boy couldn’t hurt a fly, and it looks like he’s trying really hard to get Louis to like him. 

And well. By the way a small smile tugs at Louis’ mouth when Harry looks at him with his lips in a pout and wide puppy dog eyes, Louis can almost admit that it’s working. His resolution to not let this boy worm his way into Louis’ cold heart is already crumbling, no matter how much he’d like to deny it. 

\--

As it turns out, Harry doesn’t really know his way around these parts of London other than the theatre, so it’s up to Louis to choose a place for them to dine. Once again, he has his skateboard tucked under his arm, Harry always trailing a few steps behind him. 

Louis turns to look at him.  “Jesus, can you not walk next to me like a normal person? I don’t bite! … Usually.” He flashes the boy a grin, trying as hard as possible to look non-frightening and friendly.

Harry offers his trademark crooked smile in return, then takes a few fast strides to catch up with Louis. Once they walk side to side with each other, Louis starts to feel more relaxed.

They don’t talk for a while, and the only thing Louis hears is the sound of their feet on the pavement, the traffic on the street and the loud buzzing noise of many people talking. The silence is almost soothing though, nothing like the uncomfortableness Louis usually faces whenever he’s alone with someone that isn’t family, Liam, Niall or Zayn. 

As always it’s busy in the evening, the streets filled to the brim with women in fancy dresses and elegant men in suits, but Louis is paying them no attention, instinctively grabbing Harry’s hand with his when he feels the other boy tensing up next to him. 

Harry looks nervous, clearly not being used to all the people surrounding him. Louis laughs a bit at the boy’s utter confusion, which he’s sure Harry misses, and makes a mental note to ask him about his background. It seems like he isn’t used to the big city life yet.

They walk for a few more minutes, Harry clenching Louis’ hand with his sweaty bigger one, a quiet thank you for the lead the older man is offering.

Then, Louis takes a sharp turn to the right, leading them into a small, but friendly-looking street. There, a few blocks down, is a little pub nestled in between two tall houses.

Louis finally lets go of his hands once they’re standing in front of it, clearing his throat.

“This is one of my favourite places around here. When I first moved to London I came here almost every day. Come on!” 

He ushers Harry inside, throwing his jacket on the chair at the window table. The place is rather full, as always in the evening. Harry reluctantly sits down facing Louis. The older dancer snickers, slightly shaking his head. 

“Jesus, Styles, you’re always so shy! It’s not a bad thing though – I’m sure the girls dig that.” Louis winks at him, making Harry’s insides twist in weird ways.

The other boy taps his fingers against the rough wooden surface of the table, humming a catchy tune, turning his head as a motherly older woman approaches their table. 

“Louis! I haven’t seen you around here lately, how are you?” 

“Janine my dear! I was busy, an I thoroughly apologize for not frequenting your delightful establishment more often.”

The woman lets out a roaring laugh, clutching her belly. “Oh darling, you haven’t changed at all! Do you want your usual, then?” 

“Please”, Louis confirms.

“And what may the other young man here want?” 

“Erm”, Harry starts, but Louis cuts him off.

“He’ll take the same.”

Janine raises an eyebrow, but jots something down on her small notepad, leaving the two boys on their own again. Harry starts fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He’s always been good at interacting with people, but he really likes Louis and this is the first time he’s really alone with him. He feels the other man looking him up and down, then a slight giggle.

When faces Louis again, he is met with a sight he’s never seen before. Rather than stoic, concentrated and sometimes pissed off as usual, Louis looks adorable. There are crinkles piling up by his eyes, lids half closed and mouth covered with one hand.

He looks like sunshine personified.

“What?” Harry chuckles, slightly confused at this sudden outburst of happy Louis.

The older man shakes his head. “It’s nothing. You’re just pretty cute, ‘s all.”

Harry feels a blush rising on his cheeks.

\--

Even though Louis wouldn’t admit it, he has a pretty good time. Once he helped Harry come out of his shell a little bit, the boy is full of big smiles, wide eyes and dumb jokes. It’s endearing, really.

He learns several things about Harry that night. He’s eighteen, a few years younger than Louis anticipated; he lives alone with his cat, Dusty. He took private dancing lessons since he was six, went to a posh private school at the same time. He then was encouraged by his teacher at age seventeen to apply to the academy, in which he promptly was accepted because of his outstanding talent. He lived with his older sister for a few months, but then she moved to Manchester after her graduation, leaving her little brother alone in the big city.

Also, it seemed like Harry didn’t have many friends. After realizing how charming and genuinely nice the boy is, Louis vows to change that.

They talk for a long time, and while Harry still blushes whenever Louis asks him a personal question, the conversation never comes to a halt.

It’s already 10 pm when Louis’ phone rings.

He ignores it the first time, denying the call without a second look at the caller ID. The second time he pulls the thing out of his pocket with a sigh, raising an apologizing finger to Harry.

“Where the hell are you?!”

“Jeez Liam, who pissed your pants today?” Louis groans, somehow irritated, almost even annoyed that Liam interrupted them. 

“You said you’d be home by seven! We wanted to have a nice evening - the boys and I have been waiting for you for hours! I swear, if you’ve been drinking again –“

“I haven’t been drinking.” Louis’ voice is cold as ice. He enjoys a little party as much as the next guy, but he has a strict no-drinking policy during rehearsals, especially after what happened last time. And Liam fucking knows that. 

“Well, that’s good I guess. But jesus Lou, you can’t just make everyone worry about you!” And yeah, there are twenty-two missed texts on his phone. Fourteen of them are from Liam.

Liam sighs on the other end of the line. “Look, me and the lads were worried sick. Could you just come home, please?”

“Sure. Be there in thirty, alright? Yeah, bye, love you too.”

Louis pockets the phone again with a sigh. Harry eyes him warily. 

“Your girlfriend?” he asks, squirming in his seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. 

Louis lets out a chuckle. “Nah. Just my flatmate. We were supposed to have a lads’ night. I guess I forgot.”

“Oh.” Harry bites his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault. I’ll just head home now, alright?”

“Sure.” Harry stands up, putting his coat back on. 

They don’t talk whilst walking back to the busy main street. It feels weird, that things are suddenly so strained between them again, when it almost felt as if they were friends this evening. 

Harry stops at the next bus stop. “Um, I’ll wait here.”

“Oh.” Louis can’t help sounding a bit disappointed. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?” It comes out as a question. 

Harry only shrugs.

\--

Liam looks slightly exasperated when he opens the door.

“Finally.”

“Oh shut up, Payne. I am a grown man, I can stay out a bit if I want to!” Louis snaps at him. 

“Hey now, no need to take your sour mood out on Liam here, babes.” Zayn had appeared next to his best friend, holding a bowl of popcorn.

Louis huffs, and pushes through the door. The others just shrug, letting him be cranky for a moment.

Once all three of them are settled on the couch (Niall being already there, stuffing his face with pizza) Liam eyes him with an intense stare.

“What were you doing then, after practice ‘til now? Because I know you, and you don’t just stay out for the heck of it.”

“Were you on a date?”

Zayn’s question is calm, he’s not prying or anything, but still Louis gasps and yells: “No!” in what is probably a way-too-defensive tone.

Niall starts grinning. “He totally was!! Look at good ol’ Tommo, all blushing!”

“Shut up Niall, I’m _not_ blushing!” He tries to fight the blush creeping up his neck with all his might. His three friends are now eyeing him curiously. 

“Who was it?” The blush spreads wider at that, and what the hell, why is he blushing when thinking of an evening he spent with Harry fucking Styles, of all people?

The Irishman starts poking his arm. “C’mon – tell Uncle Niall who’s got your head up in the clouds.”

That takes the last bit of Louis’ restraint. He jumps up, shouts, “It wasn’t a date!” and stomps over to his room. Without looking back he slams the door.

He drops face down on his bed, burying all his confusing thoughts in the dark blue duvet.

It wasn’t a date. Harry is not someone Louis’d consider dating, and they were just being friendly, just like Ben asked them to. Workplace connections, right? Harry is a guy. Louis isn’t gay. That’s all that needs to be said.

Now, if only his stomach wouldn’t twist uncomfortably when he whispered “It wasn’t a date” into the dark room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](http://headband-husbands.tumblr.com)


End file.
